


The Copper Queens

by Elane_in_the_Shadows



Category: Red Queen - Victoria Aveyard
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-03-27
Updated: 2018-03-27
Packaged: 2019-04-13 14:52:19
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 5,494
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14114736
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Elane_in_the_Shadows/pseuds/Elane_in_the_Shadows
Summary: One-shots about the relationship of Evangeline Samos and Elane Haven





	1. Every Shadow, Every Shade

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> How did Elane and Evangeline become a couple?

_One year before_ Red Queen _…_

**Elane POV**

**Even the tenth**  pencil I tried didn’t capture my imagination. I pressed harder and lighter, cursed silently at the eraser and used the sharpener after just a few strokes but the gleam on the paper couldn’t match the shine of her hair, her armour, her blades, her skin, or the dark light of her eyes.

Finally, I snorted and raised my hand asking for the tutor - then he was already behind me before I’d looked into his direction or called his name.

“Master Eagrie,” I said, using the address only appropriate in this class, “do you have more pencils? The ones I have just don’t offer the right shades …” I went on talking although he could see for himself and divine my words. At least he didn’t interrupt me by saying my own words before I spoke them myself. Other seers of his house never learned this basic politeness.

“You may use this one,” he said, handing me a pencil and pointing, “there. And try another one for the armour. But to be honest, I’d recommend you try to shade more, much more. Make it darker to get more contrasts.”

I sighed. “That wouldn’t be accurate. Lady Evangeline  _is_  light-skinned.”

He shrugged. “Right, Lady Evangeline is well-known to all of us.” He sounded sarcastic, almost amused. “I’m merely intending to teach you, Elane, to try something new to improve. Or do you have a specific reason to make this a perfect portrait?”

I felt blood rushing up and blooming in my cheeks. I noticed his informal address as well as his insinuation. I did intend to make the portrait a gift to Eve unless I found another way to confess my feelings to her. 

But when I looked at him - Roman Eagrie, my cousin - I didn’t saw a person joking about me, but something close to empathy flashing on his face. As if he wasn’t an art tutor in a class full of other young nobles but a friend offering to trust him. Which he was to me. A free-spirited friend, a little older but without belonging to my direct family was a refreshing,  _different,_  company.

“I’m undecided,” I replied finally. “This is definitely not good enough, and I shall try harder, and heed your advice.”

He nodded, smiling, and patted the back of my chair. Did he ever get frustrated about knowing what people would say and do beforehand? All I knew was that he used his ability for art. “You’re one of the best here, Elane, if I’m allowed to say so,” he added.

I inclined my head with acquired modesty. “Thank you, Master Eagrie.” Then he went to another student.

Actually, I wasn’t surprised to hear this. I  _was_  the second-best student in this class, solely bested Leticia, another Haven cousin. Our family seemed to have an innate talent for the arts and Roman likely inherited his from his Haven mother. Yet I wondered about the intentions of the rest of the class. Its purpose was rather recreational for Silvers who liked art as a hobby but I wouldn’t be surprised if some were here to enjoy Roman’s company for a different reason: Strikingly handsome, still unmarried in his late twenties and heir to is house, he was a desirable match for the seven other ladies in the class, all older than me, and I suspected the two male students harboured a fancy for him as well. It didn’t bother me as long as they didn’t disturb the lessons but I’d realized long ago that Roman, who was currently dating Reuben Osanos, didn’t wish to marry anyone, be it man or woman, no matter how much everyone else wanted him to. So I rather mused on Roman’s view of his students as he always remained polite and committed and avoided any tries of flirting.

I tried the new pencils and advice Roman had given to me on my drawing and the more I worked on it, the more I doubted my skill and the pose itself. I erased several areas I’d been proud of to create more reflections on Evangeline’s armour and knew immediately they weren’t accurate this way, not when I craved perfection in every shadow and every shade, as she deserved. Why was this so difficult, I should  _know_  how to draw light and shadows better than anyone! I would need to work more on this, change the lighting completely to make it look right  _and_  compelling, and research the metals she wore as armour. If I ever became content with this work to call it finished and present it to her, I wanted her to  _feel_  the graphite flakes that my efforts had fixed on the paper in this helpless attempt to convey my love for her.

I put down my pencil and sighed. Then I saw the other students were already leaving, and only Roman remained with me, catching my eye.

“Oh,” I said, blushing again and embarrassed to have forgotten the time. “Here, I’ll return your pencils.” I grabbed them, their case, the drawing and my folder, and walked to his desk.

He cleared his throat. “May I see your other drawings, Elane?”

“Sure.” A part of me was nervous but another hoped he’d have the answer to make my works perfect. He certainly contemplated them thoroughly but when he lifted his eyes to me, I couldn’t help fearing I’d revealed my whole heart to him. I saw the unspoken question hanging between us:  _Is Evangeline Samos the sole subject of your art?_

I swallowed, and his hawkish features softened. “Elane,” he said, and I had to sit down.

I would not cry in front of him.

He stayed as compassionate as before. “You’re friends, aren’t you? You could ask her about the metals she wears.” Then he winked and I had to smile a little.

“She’s preparing to win Queenstrial,” he said.

“Indeed.”

“You don’t want to try to become queen?”

_As if._  “I’m the third daughter. If I wasn’t close in age to the crown prince, my parents would be content with any offer from a high house.” While the prince’s existence created more competition among the young ladies, there were more young lords to court as well.

“Hmm.” He thought for a long moment, his eyes not looking into the immediate future for once. “Elane, you see, sometimes noble parents are very glad if their children make proposes on their own.”

I laughed. “Right, like the girls – ” I stopped, getting his meaning. “You don’t think that … Eve …?”

He shrugged. “As you said, you’re the third daughter, what can they expect of you? There’s freedom in being not as important.”

“I don’t know.” I didn’t know anything, really. Not about Eve, my parents’ expectations or whether people saw being a paramour as prestigious or undignified. I wasn’t averse towards marriage or having children but those ideas seemed so distant when you walked on the fragile ice of new and likely unrequited love.

“Maybe you should ask her out,” Roman suggested. “As you’re friends. You could ask her how she really thinks about Queenstrial.”

“You think I’d have a chance with her?” I smiled at him, out of politeness and yet strangely hopeful. I wished so much he was right. It wasn’t easy for people like us, Silvers who called themselves bisexual and fell in love regardless of gender.

“You won’t find out unless one of you tries it. That doesn’t protect you from disappointments, though.” He laughed but it was tinted by less joyful memories.

“Sure,” I replied, “I have to stand up for myself and take what’s mine. And now I sound a lot like parents talking.” I rolled my eyes. “Only they never tell you to find the person you love.”

“Yet we always keep searching,” he added.

* * *

 

**I thought all**  my hopes forlorn as Evangeline had brought her brother along – to our “date” on a café’s terrace overlooking the river.

“Tolly just returned from Corvium,” Eve said. “With the crown prince.”

I wondered if her brother regarded me as much as a third wheel as I did him.

“Cal and I finally took matters into our hands,” Ptolemus proclaimed. “Can’t be we’ll have to continue this war for the rest of our lives without achieving victory.” He took his glass and drank.

“Cal …?” I inquired.

“The crown prince Tiberias Calore the seventh, flame of the north,” Eve corrected, smirking. “I prefer to maintain formalities, Tolly.”

I had to smile, for two reasons. Eve insisting on formalities while addressing her most-noble brother with a silly nick-name like “Tolly” was adorable. Secondly, her wish to remain formal in regards to her likely future husband gave me a surge of hope.

“Have you ever been to Corvium, Elane?” Tolly asked, unusually serious.

Surprised by his interest, I merely nodded at first. “I have, yes,” I replied. “We Havens are valuable for many tasks required at the front.” Even as children, when abilities were still unstable. Most of my house were trained to become spies and assassins and invisibility was always welcome.

Tolly patted my hand. “I’d love to exchange experiences with you one day,” he said.

I agreed according to all my courtesy lessons.

“Eve’s never been there yet, you know?” he added.

My head spun. Unlike Tolly, Eve didn’t excel at polite yet funny banter and stayed earnest, only inclined her head. “I am a court lady, and a proud member of our house. I governed in our homelands though, presided at trials and, well, executed the verdicts.”

_Oh._

Tolly raised his glass. “To my amazing sister!” he toasted.

I followed suit and giggled, looking around to check if we were identified. Eve only took a sip, then glanced at me and for a second, she smiled as much as her dark eyes sparkled. Then she downed her drink. “Let’s go somewhere else,” she announced. “Elane, I think you’ve been out around here a little more … often, do you know a place?”

I beamed at her, letting the light reflected by the glass around us glitter and flicker in little rainbows. “Sure I do.” 

* * *

 

**I’d been to**  this club several times, with friends or my sisters but everything about this place was new to Eve and watching her usually impenetrable haughtiness be replaced by fascination and curiosity filled me with joy. It was almost more intoxicating than the drinks Tolly purchased for us when he wasn’t dancing. Apparently, he wasn’t a stranger to Archeon’s night life either.

And although Eve was just sitting on the couch we secured, occasionally sipping from her cocktail, I could hardly tear my eyes away from her. She wore a short black leather dress, with its creative use of straps both prim and sexy in an original way. Small metal plates and studs were tacked on it and those gleamed blue in the club’s lighting. Even her hair shone almost blue. I had to hold myself back from taking the straight sheets of her hair into my hands, from stroking or tucking it behind her ears – which were adorned with the most marvellous earrings.

“I wish I could filter the colours of the light like this,” I muttered, gesturing around. “All by myself, I mean.”

Eve bended forwards, stopping just centimeters in front of me. “You’re beautiful as you are,” she whispered, “Elane. And if you try hard enough,” she chuckled, “you’ll manage that feat, like your ancestors did.”

I breathed raggedly. Finally, my fingers found and brushed over her skin, not demanding but still full of yearning. Eve’s dark eyes fixed on me and for a second, like the touch of a feather, our lips met.

Afterwards, I couldn’t believe it had happened. Although my hand still squeezed hers while her other one examined my jewellery.

“They look so good on you,” Eve said. “There’re always glitter, light and rainbows around you.”

I laughed, covering her hand on my chest with mine. “It’s cheap stuff for every day,” I said, “simple black gems in silver.”

“How the colours of our house become you,” she said. I blushed and she grinned. “Do you want to dance?”

“Of course.” But we ended up rather hugging and swaying than in any actual kind of dance, not caring about in which rhythm the music blared, nor about the other guests around us.

Eve stumbled. “I wonder where all our elegance went?” I mused.

Eve  _tsk_ ed. “Drowned in our glasses,” she murmured and then she dropped almost 10 cm.

“By my colours!” I cursed.

Eve cackled. “Adjustable heels, Elane,” she said. “The time for high heels is over.” Indeed, beneath the metal decorations on her shoes, the soles and heels were crafted from her elements as well, likely aluminium.

I patted her back. “What allows you to be so practical?”

“I’m practical enough to leave now. Or can’t we, Elane?”

“Tolly … ”

“… could take us an hour to find and I need fresh air now.”

The moonlit night sky was as beautiful as the rest of the date. Eve took hold of my arm although I believed she was able to walk on her own. But I didn’t complain, not about her touch, nor about the way she glanced at me.

“Isn’t your family mansion on the other side of the city?” I asked finally, to be fair. “Should I get a transport? Your parents might worry -”

She cackled. “Oh, Elane, my parents  _never_  worry about me. If I couldn’t take care of myself for one night, then it’d be my own bloody fault for not being good enough.”

“Eve … ”

She sighed. “No matter. If your home is close by, certainly we’ll find a spare bed for me.” 

* * *

 

**But she didn’t**  leave my room once we’d arrived. We dressed down to our underwear and fell onto my bed, luckily large enough for two. We didn’t embrace, not even touched and I did find us a spare blanket, and yet I couldn’t believe this was real. Evangeline Samos had kissed me. She slept in my bed. All I wanted was to repeat this evening, make sure it wasn’t a dream or a singular occasion caused by the influence of alcohol. So, I couldn’t prod and thus make her feel like I was exploiting the situation.

I woke at the incredibly early summer dawn, to the sound of Eve getting up and into the shower. I dozed off again, astounded by her little amount of sleep. Unlike me, Eve seemed to be an early riser.

The next time I woke, Eve sat at my desk, coffee in hand – from where? –  and looked through my drawings.  _Of her._  I rushed up in embarrassment to loom over her, wrapped in my blanket.

Her fingers glided over one sheet, the main piece I worked on in class. She glanced at me, her mouth slightly open but apparently uncertain of what to say. All I hoped for was she wouldn’t think me a stalker and for an eternally long moment, I expected her expression to change into distaste.

It didn’t.

“Sorry,” I said, “I wanted to gift you an awesome finished portrait, but I failed so far. But there’s still time until your birthday, isn’t it?”

She closed the folder and smirked. “I’m excited, Elane. There is no way you’ll disappoint me.”

“Never,” I promised.


	2. Stars Align

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Elane Haven was raised to become a court spy, now she finds herself groomed into something similar to a princess. But the lies remain, as the person she loves is not her betrothed

During  _King’s Cage_ , April 321 

**Elane POV**

**I shone like** the night sky, illuminated my moonlight. Displaying beauty was one of the skills we Havens excelled at. Hiding was the other one, and I’d been asked – often forced – to make use the second one more frequently that I could remember. Like the shadows we were named for, I lurked in the darkness, watching and listening, only allowed to show myself once I gathered enough intel to our advantage.

Sometimes I wished I was more than a courtier and a spy, skilled in a trade instead of valued for my loyalty alone. I didn’t even know which talent I desired, as I already did what I was best at. It was more like I resented my foreordained fate itself.

We Havens weren’t kings and queens, we were their loyal knives and spies.

But that was my fate no longer, and the court and my family would see it once I became the “princess” of House Samos.

I rose, hands brushing over my black dress, the fabric tight but elastic and flattering every one of my curves. Delicate lace lay on my cleavage, neck, back and arms and its web went down over my body where sparkling sequins, beads and gems were sewed on it. Glittering rouge in gold, silver and bronze emphasized my sharp and sun-tanned cheeks, a dramatic black eyeliner finished my makeup. If I wanted to, I would’ve been able to make myself shine like a torch of magnesium, but today, the only fire-like part of me was my hair, copper waves one half pinned up, one half falling over my shoulders.

I knew I was a sight of awe, but my whole family was. In a way, we used both invisibility and beauty to remain inconspicuous. So people may forgot to see the person beneath a lovely face.

Evangeline wasn’t one of those and I could’ve loved her for that alone. In turn, I’d fallen for the girl with the façade of fangs and steel the first time I’d met her. She’d always been a girl who believed in herself and those she loved, a girl who didn’t give up until her iron will received its due. I wished I had her steel resolve, her incontestable presence. I could call myself mercurial at best, the ever-shifting, poisonous vapour around her shining blade. I’d be forever hers, if only it didn’t mean to chain myself to another High House and its own spiry customs and antics.

As when Lady Larentia urged me to put in earrings with diamonds and emeralds to display our coming relation. “Green becomes you so well, pet,” she said. “It’s the privilege of – soon-to-be – married women to mix their colours.” I just avoided her from pinning a dead butterfly in my hair as well. Or like the way neither Eve nor Ptolemus could withstand fixing rivets and spikes on my clothing, like those they wore on their own. It was like they claimed me as a part of them.

I loved both of them fiercely, but sometimes they started to cage me in. Wasn’t it enough that I was marrying Tolly for Eve’s sake? I was aware none of us would ever be free of the ties to our families, our duties, yet I would prefer not to offer anyone too much power over me. My second sister Mariella died for house politics, and my oldest sister Lizanne, the heir, had to make up for her coup in the meantime, remaining demure next to her Gliacon husband, trapped between keeping up appearances and clandestinely supporting rebel houses.

Whereas I was the bride of Ptolemus Samos, a match no one had dared hope for, and I got closer to the throne than any other Haven in the last decades.

Yet I was still told to present myself as the girl pretty to look at and maybe my family was right – there  _was_  safety in being inconspicuous.

* * *

 

**I met Tolly**  in his room. I reached out with my hand, beckoning him to rise and come with me but he hesitated, seemingly needing more time in front of the mirror than I did. I couldn’t help cracking a smile. “Are you dressing yourself up for Lady Wren?”

He pretended not to have heard, yet it was obvious in the way he chewed on his lip and greyness crept up in his pale cheeks. He rushed to get up at my tease nonetheless, taking my hand and spinning me around as if in a dance. “Nothing escapes you, dear Elane.”

I twisted once more, then pulling myself away with a flip of my hair. “I know what I’m doing.”

“Well, then tell me,” he asked, “which armor pattern is better? Laurels, feathers or serpent scales?” The sheet of metal he was clothed in rippled and changed at his words, the scales moving as if not made of metals, but like leaves caught in a breeze.

“You’re seriously like a man-child,” I chided him. He laughed.

“Come on, Elane, you like the Samos’ artistic skills too.”

“Umm …” He wasn’t wrong. Many Havens had a penchant for the arts.

He still chuckled and his hand touched the lace on the small of my back. “You look radiant tonight, of course.”

“Thank you. And I think you should go for the laurels,” I decided.

He nodded. “I have an advice for you as well.”

I raised an eyebrow. Tolly pulled me closer, his black eyes boring into mine. Yet the corners of his mouth twitched. “Make Eve happy,” he whispered.

I grinned. “That’s all I desire.”

* * *

 

**I couldn’t find**  Eve at the party after our entry. Of course, she was no longer the center of attention, with Princess Iris having replaced her as the future queen of Norta. Iris already ruled the court, depicting the magnanimous queen better than Eve ever would have. As she was a born royal, I assumed she knew how to deal with noble fangs as well. King Maven was a different task, and I was glad Eve was rid of him. Yet I continued to hope their days were numbered, if only for Mariella.

Usually I enjoyed the spoils of this kind of parties well enough, but as I danced with Tolly and his numerous friends, I couldn’t stop myself from searching for my love, just like my betrothed’s eyes always roamed in the direction of Lady Wren who avoided him in public, if not in private.

I’d been in the ballroom for more than an hour before I saw Eve again as she intercepted a waitress. I left my current partner Logan at the earliest chance and stalked after Eve. I knew she was aware that I was following her but she didn’t stop. She walked on, through the gathered nobles and crossing several rooms of the party before we found ourselves in a long gallery.

“Eve,” I called, “what.”

I could’ve sworn she giggled. She turned, balancing a drink in her hand as lime- and moonlight fell in through the huge windows to her right and was reflected on her silver hair and intricate metal dress.

“I’m too sober for  _that_ ,” she said. “I need more of this,” she raised her glass – “before I get back in there.”

I closed the distance between us. Smiling, I took the glass from her and drank a sip. Gin Tonic. “I think the same goes for me,” I said. “It was too boring without you. Even dancing was no fun.”

“Oh, I’m a marvellous dancer, Elane, and you know it.” She played with a loose tress of my hair, took back her drink and treated herself a mouthful.

“Hey,” I protested, “don’t drink so much booze.”

She blinked in surprise as I cupped her head in my hands. “Wouldn’t you rather drink in me?”

She kissed me instead of answering and guided me to the window seat. “I do already,” she muttered. “Seeing you dressed in moonlight enraptures me more than any intoxicant.”

“I live up to my reputation,” I whispered. “So you can chase me like starlight.”

“Until the end of my life,” she promised.

Thus, we danced alone in the gallery, with only the night itself our witness. 


	3. Simple Lives

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Post King's Cage/War Storm (presumed)  
> Will Evane find their happy ending and life as a family?

**_A/N:_ ** _Surprise! This is an Evane baby fic. You can pry this HC from my cold dead hands._

**Evangeline POV**

**When dinner is**  served, the fork jumps into Rose’s hand. At first, she giggles in amazement. But I’m gasping, frozen in my seat. It takes Rose a second, then the same fright I feel shows on her face.

She puts the fork down. She looks at me, aghast and at loss.

Elane clears her throat. “Shall I cut the meat for you, Rosie?” she asks.

Rose nods. “Please, Mom,” she says, shoving her plate over to Elane because at not even three years old, she’s too young to handle a knife.

I didn’t anticipate how careful we were when we didn’t allow our daughter knives. What could’ve happened with a blade? 

I look at my own hands, now worn from work. I can’t see any old scars, as the scars and wounds from my childhood were healed quickly. But I remember the pain and horror I felt at the three times I cut off one of my fingers. I was older than Rose is now, yet as unused to my powers. No magnetron is a stranger to lost digits, myself included. Back then I bore the pain with not exactly pride – I’d failed, after all – but grit.

And still, imagining my little Rose with her hands bleeding, fingers lost or even worse injuries due to inexperience, are pictures I cannot suffer. She’s a lovely, shy girl, who’s untouched by the grim drill of House Samos and she shall stay that way.

After all, skinhealers are hard to come by, here in Tiraxes. We were lucky to have one present at Rose’s birth which was difficult enough on its own.

Ironically, I thought I’d feel proud when my daughter would reveal her ability to be the same as mine. Now I hardly care about the legacy if only she stays whole and hale. The name Samos is gone, replaced by  _DeLeon_ , the name Elane and I made up for ourselves.

* * *

 

 **Elane knows how**  to cheer Rose up, and me as well. She chats about Rose’s already delightful taste for nice food and makes up stories about the roads the food has taken before it came to us. Rose focuses on her and smiles and when she turns to me again, I smile back, although a glimpse of insecurity remains in all three of us. This was the proof, only arriving exceptionally early. Rose couldn’t have not been a magnetron and now we’ll have to talk about this. Abilities are a serious topic that can’t be ignored but I’m uncertain about how I’ll train my daughter. I don’t want to instruct her in the same way as I was - although this wasn’t even possible, as my High House had resources I couldn’t dream of here.

I could ask other magnetrons, who’ve been in Tiraxes longer than me. There’re my colleagues at work but we aren’t close, nor have I been open to anyone about my family or private matters in general apart from the bare minimum, like mentioning I’m married. I work for the money, and magnetrons are welcome employees in Tiraxes’s growing industry. It pays well and I enjoy the mathematic aspects of the tasks, along with the chance to use my ability - but it’s not a dream of a profession. There’s no art in it, only logic and pragmatism. I could try to apply for a higher, more creative position but Silvers – and the rare Newbloods – are meant to put their abilities to use, for the good of the community. I’d have to explain myself, gain the favour of the right people, and introduce myself more thoroughly, and none of that is appealing. That Elane managed to find a job as an official, an art teacher, was risky enough, and I’m glad that so far, no one seems to wonder where we came from exactly. My private life consists of Rose, Elane and me and I don’t need more.

When I want to be creative, I built toys and decorations for Rose’s room. Before she was born, I topped all nails and pins on her cradle with roses, using many different metals, and made a mobile from the rest. Elane thought that almost funny. “I really didn’t think you have a maternal streak, love,” she said, although I was already six-months-pregnant at the time. Now she knows better and joins me in this; she’s the better painter anyway.

 **I pick at**  the food, hardly hungry although I cooked it myself. Elane and Rose enjoy the meal, laughing to each other. Rose is so different from me. She’s shy where I’m confident, and open where I’m reserved. Her black hair falls free and she doesn’t care while I have a need to always have mine fixed at least in a braid. The differences fascinate me, strengthening my resolve to see her grow up without restraints.

There’s her father, of course. I haven’t seen him in a while, and the only time he visited to see Rose was nigh on two years ago – so she doesn’t know him, although she resembles him with her black hair, brown eyes and bronze skin.

We have a good arrangement, all things considered. Rose’s father is a magnetron I’ve met in another aluminium-producing company about four years ago. A loose acquaintance formed between him and me, but with a kind of understanding I haven’t found with other people in Tiraxes. Even so understanding that I casually mentioned my wish for a child with my wife and he offered his service without asking for a trade-off. Elane and I know his address and name, Matt Pierce. So does Rose. She doesn’t ask about him and I thought it means we’re enough for her. That may be right, but it’s possible she doesn’t know  _how_  to ask, or is just too small to wonder for now.

I might contact him again, set up another visit if only to query him about magnetron training in Tiraxes. A good plea. Contact to Matt fell asleep after the two times he handed over his sperm that Elane inserted into me to make Rose. He claimed work for his move to the west afterwards, and I’ve begun to doubt that. I suspect, as our plan progressed into an actual child, he pulled away to give me the privacy to raise my child with my wife. I know I wouldn’t have demanded otherwise although I wonder about the friend he could’ve been.

* * *

 

 **I’d begun to**  want a child several months before I got to know Matt. It started in a small manner, as a formerly buried urge to leave something of me behind. Not only of me, but of the disbanded House Samos as well. I thought I’d abandoned the past along with the name I shed, but it seems the High Houses’ desire for progeny is a wish independent of the need for dynasties. Neither me, nor Rose, nor Elane will ever be a queen but crowns have stopped to matter in this world. I’ve loved the family I had, despite their … flaws, and I wanted to have that again, having lost all of them but Elane. And I love what we have now.

 **Rose clings to**  my leg as we clean the kitchen. Maybe she should rather go to bed instantly, as my nannies at the Rift would’ve insisted. I’m often unsure about such questions but I like her with me, as work kills enough of our time together. So, with my hand on her shoulder, she watches me letting the cutlery and pots fly into the sink.

“Isn’t Mommy fascinating, Rose?” Elane teases her. Rose nods, Elane sighs. “But it still doesn’t wash itself, does it, Eve?”

I grin. “It is how it is. The bad side having privacy is to have to do everything by oneself.” I look down to Rose. “This can be so much fun, Rosie. One day, you can do this as well.”

She leans closer against my leg, quite effectively inhibiting my capacity to walk. I wouldn’t have thought I’d ever enjoy such childish antics. “Now hurry, Elane, Rosie’s getting tired.”

“I’m not – “ Rose is interrupted by her own yawn and I pat her head.

* * *

 

 **Soon afterwards, I**  carry her to bed and Elane dims the room exactly to Rose’s preferred shade of darkness. I start to read her a story despite noticing she hardly pays attention. Once finished, I bend over for a last kiss and caress as she whispers, “Mother, I’m afraid.” She grabs my hand lingering on her small cheek.

I hesitate to answer, just holding on to her for moment. I merely give Elane the slightest glance. “That’s alright, Rose,” I say finally. “I was too, when I was as little as you.”

She seems doubtful.

“No, really,” I insist. “But I’ll take care of you. When you want to try out your ability, I promise I’ll always be with when you wish me to. Okay?”

“Okay,” she murmurs, still unsure.

“The same goes for me,” Elane adds. “Someone has to pay attention that your mother doesn’t reshape the whole house.”

Rose smiles, tightly, and this evening, I can’t bring myself to leave her before she falls asleep. Right before her eyes close, the copper horse in the mobile above her starts to dance.


End file.
